Every Sunday and Thursday morning I go to Starbucks on Main Street. Most people love that Sbux because it has a drive-thru. I only use the drive-thru if I have Crazy Daisy. I make it a point to go in.
I don't live in Boston, and I've never been to Cheers, but I do live off Main St. and I do go to Starbucks. And, while not everybody knows my name, most of them know my order (Venti White Mocha).
One of the baristas (baristo) and I have a special little bond. His name is Josh and he knows me well and takes care of me. He knows I teach 2nd grade and I wait until Sunday afternoon to grade papers, and that I love my little ones but sometimes they drive me crazy. He knows that I go to church every Sunday morning and that I curse when I can't find my other shoe, and that when I'm really tired I get really quiet and stand with my eyes closed.
So, last Friday, I was very tired and in desperate need of something caffienated, so I went in on an off day. And Josh was there. And throughout the whole "transaction" Josh did all the work an, and I only uttered two words: Thank you. I was very thankful.
And that is why I pay $4.67 for a glorified cup of coffee.